Charity
by Lost In A Dark Wood
Summary: Alphonse Elric has been restored to flesh and Edward Elric lies inexplicably asleep. What has the Fullmetal Alchemist done, and why did he request to be kept in complete isolation? General Mustang is racing the clock to piece together what happened.


**Title: Charity **

**Summary: **Alphonse Elric has been restored to flesh and Edward Elric lies inexplicably asleep. What has the Fullmetal Alchemist done, and why did he request to be kept in complete isolation? General Mustang is racing the clock to unlock the secrets of Ed's greatest transmutation before it's too late.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it.

**Author's Notes: **So, I've decided to try something I've never done before, namely to write a story with a set number of chapters. For reasons that should be obvious, I've decided on seven. Here is Part the First. I've decided that the chapters will alternate between Now and Then, so that chapters 1,3,5,7 are in chronological order and take place after Al has been restored and chapters 2,4,6 are in chronological order, but rather lead up to Al's restoration.

More to the point, this is based in the Animeverse (although I am borrowing the manga's treatment of Al within the Gate) and deviates from the plot of the Anime after the point when Ed dies. Alphonse brings him back, but he doesn't disappear, and neither Ed nor Envy are taken across the Gate.

Older brother: 22

Younger brother: 21

**Part the First**

_**Acedia**_

Alphonse woke up. After ten years of sleepless nights, that was a miracle; it should have been a completely novel experience, and yet, he didn't even notice. Flesh was flesh, and sleeping and waking were second nature, even if for ten years, both had been impossible. He yawned and stretched his arms, and only then did he notice that his vision was a little blurry and that there was a dark-haired man in a blue uniform standing at the foot of his bed.

He rubbed his eyes, and only then, when for the first time in ten years he felt flesh rub against flesh, did he begin to grasp the meaning of the situation. Slowly he pulled his arms away from his face, staring at them in incredulity. His arms were skeletal—he could clearly see the knobs of his joints. The flesh was pale, between white and yellow. His fingernails were purplish, overgrown and gnarled. And despite all of this, his wasted arms were the most beautiful thing Alphonse had ever seen in his life.

Suddenly he pulled his eyes away from his arms and snapped his face to look at the man at the foot of his bed.

"General Mustang!" he screamed in excitement and a small smile crept up the General's tired face. He'd been staring at Alphonse's sunken eyes, wondering whether the boy would be well after having spent such a long time in the Gate, and the boy's excitement reassured him.

Al threw the covers off and hurried to his feet—and promptly fell down. The only thing which kept his face from colliding with the floor was Mustang's swift dive to catch the withered boy in his arms, and it was only with a good deal of help from the General that Alphonse was able to stand up and get back into bed. The whole ordeal took five minutes and it left him exhausted.

"You have to be careful," Mustang chided him, "you've been in the Gate for a long time; in that time your body was still growing, but without any of the usual exercise or nutrition—I still don't quite understand how your body managed to stay alive in the Gate, and it's a miracle that you survived."

"But, I will be able to walk again, right?" Alphonse asked, fear coming into his eyes.

Mustang nodded. "Yes, the doctors are just as baffled as I am, but they think that with a healthy diet, a lot of rest, and some physical therapy you should be up and running just like your old self in a year or so."

"A year's not so bad..." Alphonse brightened, "that's how long it took Ed to learn how to use his automail." Sunken eyes went wide: "Ed!" he exclaimed, and almost tried to get up again. "He did it! He did it! Where is he? Why isn't he here? I want to thank him!"

Mustang bit his lip, but Alphonse didn't notice. "Fullmetal is..." he paused to find the right words, "resting."

Alphonse laughed. "After a transmutation like that, he's probably exhausted, especially without the Philosopher's Stone."

'"Without the Philosopher's Stone?" Mustang was taken aback. "Alphonse, do you remember the transmutation?"

The newly flesh and blood boy paused to think, "No, I remember that Brother had gone off, back to Central with Charity, and then a month later he called me at the Rockbell's place, telling me he'd figured out how to fix us without having to use the stone. I remember how excited he sounded, and I remember how happy Winry was, you know, for the two of us, despite everything that happened between Winry and Ed recently, and I remember the train ride, and the trip to the place where brother was staying, and I remember knocking on the door, and I remember Ed hugging me, and I remember asking Ed about Charity, and I remember that he told me not to worry about her, but then, after that, I don't remember anything until I woke up here with you."

"I see," Mustang said simply.

"Where's Ed? Can I go see him? Did he manage to get his arm and leg back?"

"No." Mustang's voice was cold.

"What? But he said he'd figured out how to fix us both!" Alphonse protested.

"It's possible your brother was wrong. Or it's possible he wasn't being completely honest with you. I don't know. I've seen the arrays but I don't understand a large chunk of them. There are characters I've never seen, equations which are surely balanced, but which I can't make out, and angles I'd never have dreamed of using in alchemic reactions. I've ordered seven of my best State Alchemists, well, you know, aside from Fullmetal, for obvious reasons, to look into it, but we haven't been able to find his notes and there are things there which aren't in any of the books on Alchemy." The Flame Alchemist sighed. "I was hoping you would remember the transmutation."

"Wait," Alphonse was panicking now. "Brother didn't get his real limbs back, and you can't understand the transmutation, and I'm assuming he for some reason can't talk to you. He's not..." what Alphonse was about to say never left his lips, the thought was too terrible to voice.

"No Al, he isn't dead," Mustang comforted him. "He just hasn't woken up yet."

"How long has it been?"

"A day and a half."

"He's just tired, right?"

"Maybe."

"What do you mean maybe? Haven't the doctors been running tests?"

"No."

"What! I want to see my brother right now."

"You can't," Mustang said quietly.

"I don't care if I have to crawl to where he is or kill everyone in my way, I want to see my brother RIGHT NOW!" Al screamed, surprisingly loudly for someone who hadn't had a body in ten years.

Mustang sighed, hung his head and sat down on the side of Al's bed. "You can't see Ed because of this." He handed an envelope to Al. The word "Alphonse" was written on it in Ed's messy scrawl and the envelope was still sealed.

"This letter is still sealed," Al said, "What do you mean I can't see him because of what that letter says?"

"The doctors found this pinned to your brother's clothes when Hawkeye and I brought you two in." Mustang waived a scrap of paper in front of Al's face. "In it, Ed directed me to the letter I just gave you, which he'd sent to Winry."

"But he and Winry weren't speaking to each other, not after the Charity incident," Al murmured confused.

"Regardless, he'd sent a letter to Winry and along with that he sent you the letter you have in your hands. Judging from what he wrote in his letter to me, you have in your hands your brother's last will and testament."

"What?" Alphonse couldn't believe his ears. Suddenly he had to see for himself what Ed had written inside that envelope, but he couldn't manage to tear it open. Pathetically, he handed the envelope to Mustang, who took it, opened it, and then, without reading the contents of the letter, handed it to Alphonse.

The boy began to read, horror growing in the pit of his stomach as his eyes ran down the page with increasing speed. "This is crazy!" He yelled out, in desperation. "He says he doesn't want any medical attention, or any human contact, if he's that ill, how are they supposed to feed him?"

"Keep reading," Mustang ordered.

"He doesn't want any food or drink? Just to be locked up in a heavily guarded room, with no one allowed to come in or out?"

"I've had the door to his room sealed shut with alchemy and Colonel Hawkeye is posted as his sentry with an order to shoot on sight should anyone try to come near Fullmetal."

"But, I don't understand," tears were coming to Al's eyes. "If Brother doesn't eat or drink anything, let alone the no doctors thing, he'll die."

Mustang stood silent on that point.

"And even then, it isn't fair! Who is he to say who can or can't see him? If he's unconcious what difference will it make to him? But to me, and the people who love him it'll make all the difference in the world. What about Winry? And Pinako? And Charity, I mean, he can't not let his own--

"Keep reading," Mustang interrupted sternly, and Alphonse shut up.

" 'Not you, Alphonse,' " he read aloud from his brother's letter, " 'not Winry, not Pinako, not General Bastard, not Hawkeye, and not Charity. Especially not Charity. I don't want anyone to visit me; I just want to be left alone. I know it's foolish and selfish, and I know you won't understand. But I'm asking you, Al, Little Brother, leave me alone. Let me die. If ever you loved me, make sure that I am allowed to die in peace.' " Al's voice broke, " 'Stay away from me until nothing more can be done, and then, if it's not too much to ask, bury me with mother.

" 'Before I called you to Central I sent something to Winry, telling her that I was sorry. I know it isn't enough, and I hope that you never learn what an idiot I was. But please, Alphonse, tell her I'm sorry, and that there are no words in the language, none that I know at any rate, to tell her how sorry I am. Or to tell you how sorry I am.

" 'But at least, if everything has worked out the way I had hoped, and I have reason to believe that if you're reading this, then it's all worked and you're back in flesh and blood, I'll have been able to give you back your body. You're back to the way you were born, and I, well, I'm as well as could be expected given the circumstances. It's for the best. Really. Will you believe me Brother? Of course you won't. But I'm not lying and I'm not wrong. I can see that clearly now.

" 'And if you see Charity, thank her. She gave me that last piece of the puzzle. Without it, you would still be stuck in that armor. So you see, Al, in the end, Charity really was charitable. What am I saying? Charity charitable? I can't stand to be wrong. You were right. If you see her, thank her. But don't let her anywhere near me. Please. Keep her away from me. And keep away yourself. And keep everyone away. Not for the funeral. Afterwards you can let anyone come. Maybe not Charity, but somehow, I doubt she'll come. She's gotten what she wanted. And I did too, really, because, even though I know it seemed like I forgot it these past few months, the only thing I wanted, really, really wanted, was to get you back into your body. So she got what she wanted, and I got what I wanted. Equivalent Exchange.

" 'I've left directions to Mustang too. They're duplicates of what I've written here. I'm going to go put this in the mail, and then I'll call you. I can't wait to hear the excitement in your voice, that is, if you'll talk to me, but I have faith, in that at least I can still have faith, and I have faith in the excitement that will be in your voice when I tell you that I've managed to find a way to fix us. I hope you'll be too excited to notice that I'm saying fix us, and not get us our original bodies back, it's just a detail, a tiny one, but an important one, and that distinction will save me from having to lie to you.

" 'I'm afraid what state your body will be in. By my calculations, everything should still work, and you'll be able to eat Winry's apple pie and taste it, and feel the breeze and the warmth of sunlight, and all those wonderful things. Winry's pies are really the best there are. Tell her I said that. You'll soon see it's the truth. In any case, the two of you should be fine. Yesterday I spoke with Mustang. My pension is to be shared between you and Winry, it should last you long enough. I specifically told Mustang I didn't want a cent to go to Charity. The bastard couldn't help himself at that one. Called me a greedy bastard. But she has enough. And she has what she wanted... And I'm your big brother, and I have to look out for you.

" 'I have to go. They're about to close the post office, and this needs to be mailed out tonight. Whatever else, always remember that I love you and that this was what I wanted and that this was my choice. Enjoy life. Eat apple pies. Avoid milk like the plague. And one last thing, don't repeat my mistakes. Don't be a fool.' "

Alphonse finished reading and looked up to Mustang, tears streaming down his cheeks, "What the hell is this? It sounds like a... like a..."

"It very well may be," Mustang replied heavily. "Because your brother was very insistent on the matter, I've decided to follow his instructions. His blushing bride turned into quite a harpy when I told her she couldn't see him. More the reason, I think, to listen to Ed. I've pulled every string I've got to keep Edward in total isolation, without either food or drink, as he requested, though Charity threatened to go straight to the Fuehrer with this. I'm going to need your support."

"No," Alphonse said darkly. "For once I think Charity is right. My brother is an idiot if he thinks I'm just going to stand by idly while he starves himself to death."

"And here I thought Fullmetal told you not to be a fool. Fullmetal was very clearly aware of what he was doing, and if he didn't want us to allow him any human contact, then there must be a very good reason. Listen, Al, Alphonse, neither you nor I have any idea what Edward managed to do to himself, but if he managed to revive you without using a Philosopher's Stone, that means some pretty arcane alchemy is involved. It's possible that the reason your brother doesn't want anyone near him has to do with the effects of the transmutation. I don't think human contact in and of itself is dangerous; Hawkeye and I both touched him, and then the medics did find that note pinned to himself... but, something is off. When high-level alchemy is involved, only fools rush in, and you're brother specifically ordered you not to to be foolish.

"The doctors give him about a week to live without food and water. It's likely that Charity will be able to get the Fuehrer to invalidate Fullmetal's last wishes before then, which just adds to the urgency of the problem. I don't know what was going on between him and Charity, but I do know that he seemed very, very insistent on not allowing her, in particular, to come anywhere near him."

Alphonse crossed his arms angrily, "Well, what do you expect me to do?" he asked. "Just sit here while my idiot brother withers away?"

"No, I expect to have you help me find his notes and figure out what the hell happened."

And slowly, Alphonse nodded.

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Notes:** This is the first mutlichapter fic I've written for FMA. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. (Hint, hint: Please review.) We've set up a couple of mysteries here... cookie to anyone who correctly figures out what Ed did to himself.


End file.
